


GIVING LIFE

by Kissa_Lee



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia RPF
Genre: Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Prince Caspian, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2020-11-24 06:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa_Lee/pseuds/Kissa_Lee
Summary: Eloise wasn't sure of much anymore, but she was quite sure that a typical day in normal life did not usually consist of mythical creatures, sword fighting and casually chatting with legendary monarchs. With a broken memory and a talking cat that claimed he was the same cat as her pet Arthur, all she wants is to survive as she's thrown into a sea of never-ending unexpected events.----An AU fanfiction for the Chronicles of Narnia. Will include a very slow burn romance, and will span from a year before the events of Prince Caspian till some time after the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Mostly will follow the events of the movies, but elements of the books will be included too. Rated mature for violence, veryyyy occasional swearing and some other minor mature themes.Caspian X - OC





	1. An important update.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important update, and MUST READ authors note.

Hello.

I'm going to be very honest. Until I received emails about new comments on this work from A03 just a few days agp, I actually didn't even remember I had posted it here.  
I'd like to thank Ophelia and Karianne so much for the heart-warming reviews you both left for me on this story. I am so happy that you both enjoy this work so much. I'm very sorry this wasn't another chapter for you both to enjoy.

This story, has been without much love and care from me for a while now. 

To give the most simplified explanation for my absence, I have been very bogged down with my Uni work. With the added responsibilities of being a scholarship student and therefore a student representative for my University, it means I have little time to myself, and the time that I've had free, I usually spend catching up with my social circles.

I'll be honest, for a good few months, I have not thought much about this story in the bustle of my offline life. However, the times I have thought about it, and the few times I've received emails about new comments or pms, mean that I haven't been able to completely forget it nor the promises I made to both you as my readers, or myself. That I would complete this story.

And while I know there really is no one out there, that can hold me to that promise, but myself, I still want to uphold that oath I made when I started this story. Because I have begun a lot of stories, and never been able to finish them. Not once, have I been able to successfully conclude a story. And, I really, really, REALLY, want to hit that milestone in my life. To say that I've finished a novel. Even if It is a fanfic.

So, having said all that; I've reviewed this story and its chapters, and I find myself itching to re-write a good portion of the beginning of this story. There are some new ideas springing into my head, and while I love Louisa dearly, she no longer fits as well into the picture I have in my head. But that is the brilliant things about characters and stories, they can be remade. Reshaped to breathe new life into them.

Thus, this is where I announce that I will be putting this story on hiatus, but only for a short period of time, whilst I review and revive my love and inspiration for this story. There are new strings to tie into the events of this story thus far, and until I have all the threads together again, this story will remain in a momentary pause. It is my hope, that within the next month (or perhaps even shorter), that I'll have the re-write up and going, with a good roll of chapters ahead to help me stay ahead of my updating schedule.

Until then, I ask dear readers, that you hold on, just a little while longer. I'll work hard, and promise our adventures in Narnia will take off again soon.

Thank you,

Sincerely Kissa Lee.

PS. In the meantime, should anyone have any questions or suggestions for the re-write, please do comment or PM me! I'll be much more active and therefore available to answer any messages I receive.  
PSS. Thank you Ophelia and Karianne again. It truly made my day seeing your comments. I hope you both will stay on to follow the re-write. <3


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a disclaimer, I have changed Louisa's name to Eloise. I felt Louisa was too close of a name to Lucy, but still wanted to keep the name relatively the same- thus from henceforth she'll be called Eloise in this story.
> 
> I know that I said I wouldn't likely be posting a chapter until I'd had a good amount re-written, but I wanted to give everyone a good look at what's coming, and what you all have to look forward to.
> 
> Overall the plot is much more intricate and involved than the previous. Much of the events I have planned are still the same, but I've done my best to raise up the stakes so we can all drink in the juicy drama of this story.
> 
> I've also come to realise I enjoy writing in 3rd person MUCH more than 1st, so the story will now solely take place in the 3rd person.
> 
> As always, please follow, favourite and review! I truly appreciate and will respond to each and every comment.

A torrential storm, an unwavering resolve to keep her head above water. Everything hurt. She was drowning, and there were no lifeguards to save her. 

Pressure upon her chest. Fur. Warm and soft like freshly washed linen. A long draw of breath that dulled the faint echo of pain that ached all around her. 

All sensations bled into one another, muddying her grasp on reality. Like attempting to mix paint for the first time, she achieved an ugly gray mixture of all the wrong amounts of color. Smells that she first thought were sounds, sights that followed strange tastes; the slight pressure around her that she couldn’t decide was either rough or gentle. 

Something burned and sizzled. The crackle in her ear became more defined, _ Where am I? _

There was a whisper. A name; familiar, yet distant- as though she hadn’t heard it for a century, but couldn’t never quite forget it due to its significance.

At once she became conscious of the ground; had been laying on it for some time, un-noticing its existence, yet suddenly so aware of it that it felt as though she had slammed into it at full force. 

A loud bang rattled her bones, like the slamming of a door, but louder, _ fiercer. _She didn’t really hear it the first time, but felt it jolt through her entire body like lightning. 

Another bang. Then three more followed. 

A command. REMEMBER. 

The sound seemed to fade into a high pitched ring by the last shot. She opened her eyes, blinded by the piercing light that seemed to pry her eyes open with all the force of a hurricane. 

She blinked, the light grew darker. She tried to remember… what? Remember what? 

Sirens that blended into screams. Terror. She could place the feeling of terror. _ Too fast… Everything is going too fast _she thought.

All slowed. She opened her eyes again, took a breath and allowed herself a moment to focus. She noticed a mass of fur curled up on her chest. Ginger fur. A pair of familiar green eyes peered at her from a face in that lump. The face of a cat. 

_ Not my cat… _that’s right. She had a cat. Arthur. Where had she seen him last? 

She hissed, brought a hand to hold her head as if she could somehow pry away the sudden flush of pain that shot through her mind. Images flashed like photographs, memories that should have been moving, but remained still because she couldn’t recall the events between the pages.

A room on the fourth floor. A big window with a lovely view. A lonely man. 

She faintly heard the echo of shattering glass. She bolted upright, the cat on her chest leaping away with a cry of surprise. Her entire body excreted sweat in waves.

Legs, arms, toes and fingers- the girl recalled she had always had them, but felt odd using them. Stumbling around, taking in the strange stone walls, she noticed her feet were restricted by boots that were half a size too small, and her legs tightly bound in skinny jeans. Her pale shirt was missing a button.

The young woman tilted her head down, taking in the clothing with a befuddled look on her face. She observed the blood, marvelled at how much stained her shirt, but wondered whose it was. She certainly didn’t _ feel _hurt.

She unbuttoned the cotton cover. There was not a single open wound to be found, but multiple circular scars glared back angrily at her, decorating her abdomen and chest. The skin of her belly, coated in a thick layer of half dried blood, was beginning to chip and crackle like dry mud as her muscles stretched and flexed with her breath. 

Her skin-coloured bra was also stained. Tracing the plane of her clothes, she found holes… in the same place above the scars. 

The woman looked up through hazy eyes, hearing that name again. Closer this time.  
  
She took in the strange room, and realised, it was barely a room at all. More a cavern, with giant pillars and half-walls of stone that held up the ceiling. Lining the edges, these walls were lit with a glittering flame that flickered in a dance of reverence before the stone guardians that were carved upon each wall. 

Some bore foxes, tigers, horses… and then there were fauns, and dwarves too. Creatures of myth and magic that she’d read about in books, seen in movies or heard of in song. They all stood tall, and each of them looked out, as though they were watching the world from a window. 

Through a stone arch separate from the walls, the woman laid eyes on a carving that stood out from the rest. It was not as intricate as the others, and the figure sat instead of stood. A lion. 

This lion did not look outward. It looked down- almost directly at her if she were to shift a little to her left. 

So serious, its expression, that she had a hard time looking away. Ultimately, it was the cat again that drew her attention away, for it’s steps, though quiet, echoed around the wide cavern demanding her notice. She turned a little on her foot, to watch as it leapt onto a mound of broken stone. A table almost, but not quite. 

She stared at the cat, and it stared back. It meowed. The lady furrowed her brow, blinking at the cat. For a moment, it had sounded as though it had actually asked her a question. In _ english _.

It waited for a response, and as she stared at it in confusion, it repeated, much clearer this time, “Are you alright Eloise?”

She tried to take it in stride, but could not keep the wide-eyed expression off her face. “I’m okay, thank you.” It struck her, _ Ah. This must be a dream. That’s it. _

At first, it looked at her puzzled, with a frown as it repeated, “Who are you thanking?” It looked around for another being, until the moment it seemed to dawn upon his mind. All the while, the lady kept repeating in her head. _ Definitely a dream. Don’t freak out. It’s just a talking cat. You’ve probably had much weirder dreams before… _She just couldn’t remember any at the moment.

The cat’s eyes widened, apparently just as surprised that she understood him as she was. “Wait yo-you can understand me? That must mean…” His head spun wildly around the cavern, taking in everything as she had just moments ago. He stood, his tail high and alert. 

“But it can’t be!” The cat spoke in disbelief. “This _ really is _the stone table then! It’s Aslan’s table!” The cat laughed. 

Aslan. Why did it feel as though she’d heard that name before?

Eloise felt the blood rush from her face as the very normal-looking cat continued to speak, despite its apparent disobedience of the laws of nature. She stumbled a few steps back, leaning on one of the central pillars. 

The cat looked back to her, “Eloise, It’s-it’s me! Arthur!” 

The girl gave the cat a very un-amused look, “Arthur has no fur. You can’t be Arthur,” she reasoned. 

As the cat began to insist he _ was _indeed the cat she had owned, she felt a great pain fly through her head, and a great sense of despair turned her blood to ice. So great was this pain, that her hands flew up to her head, and the strength to stand left her completely. Her knees buckled, hitting the ground with a hard smack of flesh and bone colliding with stone.

In a blink, the cat who proclaimed to be Arthur, was at her side with worry. She could see him opening and closing his mouth, speaking to her, but Eloise couldn’t make out the words over the sudden cracks of thunder in her head. She reached deep for a word for these sounds, and only one description fit the bill. _ Gunshots. _

Eloise heard them as if they were flying through the cavern itself, raining across the room with such an echo that a primal fear gripped her tight. She shut her eyes tight as they began to hurt, and when she opened them again, a confusing muddle of images took hold of her sight. 

A man across from her held the source of her fears. His face, a terrifying picture of both a deep emptiness and pure evil. Dark were his eyes- as dark as the color of the gun he held at her from a few feet away. 

In a mere blink, he emptied the chamber into her, and at the last shot, she felt herself falling backward- all the while she screamed a single note of pain and shock. 

In a way, she seemed to exist in two places. She _ remembered _ that exact moment, and lived it, but also felt like an observer in that moment- she couldn’t change what was happening before her eyes. She felt both separated and one with the girl being shot. Like it was her… and yet, _ not _her. 

She wasn’t quite sure _ how _she came to the conclusion- but something told her It was a memory that she was seeing. As the scene faded, she recalled the scars and blood on her shirt. 

Eloise felt her mind almost _ return _back to her body. It was as if she had been transported into another plane of existence from the moment she’d heard the gunshots, and now that she had seen the memory, she returned to the present moment- where her back pressed against the stone pillar, and that ginger cat still stared up at her from below. 

She breathed hard and fast, the sweat rippling uncomfortably down her back and forehead. She felt a slight pressure on her thigh, and looked down at the cat. His paws pressed into her side, his ears were pinned back and his pupils were large and wide- petrified. 

Realising he’d caught her attention finally, he spoke reassuringly, “You’re okay Eloise. I’m here.” She tried to slow her breath, refusing to look away from him as he repeated these sentences and began to explain.

“It’s going to be alright now. We’re in Narnia, Eloise.”

There were multiple things racing through her head. What the hell was Narnia? Where were they? Why did this cat believe he was her Arthur? 

She felt her face grow hot with tears, and she gasped, “Why… I can’t remember… Why can’t I remember anything?”

The words she spoke had an immediate effect on the cat. His eyes wide and slightly pinched, his mouth open in shock. He looked both horrified and deeply disturbed. 

Ignoring the cat, Eloise started to ramble to herself, tears fastly falling down her cheeks as she lost her breath again. “I-I remember someone shooting me. I remember I had a cat, and-and I remember he had no hair.”

He retracted his paws. “You… you don’t remember…” he repeated quietly to himself, watching as she continued to try and list off everything she remembered. 

“I re-remember cars, and cities, and trees,” She hiccuped, “Oceans a-and deserts. So many deserts… b-but where did I come from? What was it called?” She blinked as more tears filled her eyes and steady streams continued pouring down the curves of her face. 

Stunned, Arthur chimed in with a shaky voice, “Australia. You were born in a country called Australia.” 

Her attention captured by his words, she searched for anything. A pull, or a tug, a picture, a sound, _ dammit anything! _ She shook her head, “I… I’ve never heard that name before.” 

Arthur seemed almost angry at this, _ desperate _ as he cried, “Yes you have! It’s _ your _home!” 

She sobbed, his anger hitting her as hard as the anguish did, “B-but I… I can’t _ remember _that name.” 

Arthur softened a bit, but the frustration and agony was clear on his face. “It-It’s okay… It’s not your fault.” The anger returned to the cat in full force as he turned away and hissed fiercely under his breath, “It’s _ his _fault. It has to be.” 

Eloise grew a little quieter, her sobbing stopping as she thought. _ Who’s he talking about? _She recalled the flash of the man pointing the gun at her. Likely him, she suspected. 

Her own despair slipped away as she watched the emotion pass through this strange talking cat’s expression. It seemed just as distraught as her, if not _ more. _

_ He knows me. He knew me before all this. _

She croaked, “Who… who are you talking about?”

He looked back at her, and she was taken aback by the tears in his eyes. _ Cat’s can cry? _

Unaware of her thoughts, the ginger tabby stared up at her with fierce determination through his wet eyes. “I’ll fix this. Aslan can help you, I’m _ sure _of it. He’ll give you your memories back- we just have to find him.”

She sniffled, swallowing to wet her dry and throbbing throat. “Who… who’s Aslan?”

The tabby stood, and walked around the pillar, gesturing for her to follow with a flick of his tail. The girl slowly rose to her feet, mouse-brown tangles falling over her shoulder and tickling her neck as she did. She trailed around the column, gliding her hand across its smooth stone surface as she rounded it to stand beside the tabby cat.

She looked down at him, observed his face as he stared up at the engraving of the lion. Her head shifted as her gaze cast between the engraving and the cat. He was silent for a moment, watching the lion with almost hopeful eyes, like he was praying it would come to life and restore everything to how it _ should _be. 

When nothing happened, he sighed and spoke, “_ That’s _ Aslan.” 

Eloise studied the lion's mane as she questioned, “Aslan is a… a lion?”

His head barely reached just below her knee, but she saw him nod gently. He explained in a soft voice, “He’s the one who _ made _Narnia. He brought us both here…” He paused and looked up at her, “but… I don’t think you were meant to lose your memories. When we find him, we’ll explain what happened, and he’ll give you your memories back. I just know it.”

“Oh… o-okay.” The human had little clue of what else she could do but agree. She didn’t even understand how she had ended up in… in _ Narnia _in the first place. At least this cat seemed to have some idea of where they were- if the way he had joyously exclaimed earlier was anything to go by.

She looked up at the stone wall again. 

Both human and cat took a calming breath in. Arthur spoke up after a moment of silence, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make this right, I promise.” 

Her blue eyes looked down into the green gleaming gems that gazed back up at her with a firmness that seemed strangely out of place for a cat. Try as she might to absorb the confidence the cat wore, deep down she was having trouble believing a cat could solve all her problems. 

But, nonetheless- she didn’t have much else to go on, so she ignored this itching doubt, and nodded stiffly. She’d trust him to do his best to help her.

“Where do we start?”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on if you see this, ' *** ', it means we're switching perspectives. I've never been good with perspectives, but I love looking through as many characters eyes as possible, so I'll try and mark the definitive switches with these breaks before they happen.

Several hours had passed since Arthur had made his promise to help restore Eloise’s memory. If she hadn't had much hope in the cat before, she had almost none now that the pair had actually  _ left  _ the sanctuary of the tomb. 

Although he had certainly seemed to know Narnia- the country they were in- Arthur seemed almost as unsure of their exact whereabouts as she was. At first, the cat had been quite self-assured. He’d set off in an eastward direction, claiming the most likely place they’d find Aslan was some sort of castle on the coast. 

_ Cair Paravel.  _ Or so the cat called it. Eloise still had trouble reconciling the cat before her with the one from her memory. She wasn’t sure of many things, but she knew for a fact that her cat did  _ not  _ have fur. 

This was one of the many questions she hammered Arthur with as they had stumbled through the tunnels, trying to find their way out. It was lucky he had such a keen nose. He could smell the fresh air long before she could, and had he been human, Eloise knew for a fact that they’d likely have spent many more hours stuck in that endless stone maze. 

The tabby hadn’t been able to truly answer her as to  _ how  _ he’d gotten his fur back, but he had been able to explain that the reason he’d lost it in the first place had likely been because Narnain’s weren’t meant to travel to the other side. He’d been completely unable to answer when she’d asked how it was possible that he’d ended up in her world if that was true. 

Once they had surfaced, Eloise had been so grateful to see the sun, that she’d had to stop and raise her head to its light. She hadn’t even taken in the sight of the vast open grassfields and treeline before closing her eyes and soaking in the warmth. She had been utterly freezing, to say the least, though Arthur had barked that she only thought it was cold because she was so acclimated to the festering hot weather of her home country. 

It was clear by his tone that he’d been merely teasing her, but this reminder that she was missing such a memory felt like another gunshot to her stomach. Eloise thought she might be sick, and any ease that re-discovering the surface world had brought her was instantly snatched away. 

With confidence in his small stride, Arthur had led the human girl across the field and into the woods. The pair occasionally had to stop when crossing, as the lawn was as wild and untamed as it could possibly be. The tops of it reached to her shoulders, and there were more than a few occasions where she had to stop and call out to the tabby, having lost sight of him in the under-growth. 

There was something strange about the woods. She hadn’t really taken notice of it as they’d entered, but as the pair drew deeper into the dark forest, she began to feel a nagging concern at the back of her head. Though, she couldn’t honestly say for sure  _ why  _ she felt this way. Just that something was clearly  _ different  _ about this place, and it made her wary of the trees.

Hours passed, and Arthur’s assured skip became more of a hesitant tread. He now walked as if he was unsure of the very ground he walked on, and Eloise could tell from the wide sweeping eyes, that he was wondering if he’d gone the right direction. 

“Are we lost?” she asked. 

Arthur seemed quite offended by this notion, and barked, “No. I just need…” He tilted his head up, and following his gaze, she looked straight up into the dark canopy, where flickers of blue sky peered down between the leaves. “Wait here,” he said, “I’m going to get a better view.” 

The nimble cat leapt up, clinging to the bark of the tree trunk next to her with outstretched claws. So abrupt and quick he had been that she’d nearly jumped out of her skin, holding a hand up to her thudding heart as she watched him climb so high into the massive trees that she felt the stirring of anxiety in her stomach. What if he slipped and fell? Would she be able to catch him if he did? 

Not knowing if he could hear her or not, she stressed under her breath, “Please be careful.” She couldn’t afford to lose her only guide in this strange forest. Whether he’d really be able to help her retrieve her memories or not, she knew without his help that she’d struggle to survive on her own. At least with him, she’d at least have someone around who’d be able to help her navigate this new land. 

Eloise couldn’t help but find a spot of humor in the entirety of this situation. It was a little ridiculous. Here she was, in the middle of a land she’d never heard of, with no memories, and only a damn cat to help her. 

There had been little signs of other life so far, needless to say. The forest seemed so  _ untouched _ by… Well,  _ anything  _ for that matter. There were no worn footpaths, no tracks to be found, and not a single piece of litter to even hint at the possibility of human life. To her, it was downright odd how  _ clean  _ the forest seemed.

They’d come across only birds and various insects thus far. Robins, quails, thrushes, bright blue butterflies and beetles. When she’d asked about finding something to eat or drink, Arthur had promised that if they didn’t reach the castle by nightfall, that he’d do his best to catch a rabbit or a quail for them both- so long as she managed to get a fire going. 

Though she’d eagerly agreed, the girl wasn’t sure if she even knew  _ how  _ to make a fire without the proper equipment. She only had a watch, a mobile with a dead battery and a stick of lipstick to her name- Neither of which seemed as though they’d help. They had been the only items she’d had on her person when she’d woken, and so she’d kept them, but doubted their usefulness. 

The silver watch around her wrist was the only thing thus far that had proved in-valuable. Whether the time of day was correct or not, she at least could tell exactly how  _ much  _ time had passed. 

Kicking a pebble at her feet absently, Eloise took in a deep breath to calm herself. It had been almost ten minutes yet Arthur hadn’t descended from the tree-tops. She wondered at what the world might look like from so up high, and felt a small sting of jealousy at her companions' clear talent for climbing. 

She didn’t have the heart to even  _ attempt  _ to climb the trees as he had. Though there  _ were  _ branches that hung low enough to grab if she jumped, she didn’t quite trust her body to keep up with her. The woman still felt the ache in her bones that she’d awoken with. It was a stubborn pain that flared with each step, but as she stretched her muscles over the hours of walking, the burning had turned to a dull tenderness.

There was a rustle from above, barely audible from such a great distance. The human’s blue gaze flew upward, expecting to see the tabby cat clambering carefully down to the forest floor. Her shoulders dropped slightly. 

She could only  _ just  _ see the fiery color of his fur, but it was difficult to see much else as he was so small that the leaves hid him well. If it weren't for the fact that his pelt glittered a brilliant orange in the sun-light, she wouldn’t have the faintest clue of his whereabouts. 

A small sigh escaped her lips, and her restlessness finally got to her. She pushed off from where she had leaned on the tree trunk and surveyed the area around her- crossing her arms impatiently. 

There was a sound. So faint she almost missed it, but as she ambled lightly over the stone, she heard it clearly. A rushing sound. 

Her heart leapt and she drew a little away from the tree to make certain she’d not been hearing things. It was so distant the sound, that she’d honestly mistaken it for the wind- yet the closer she drew the louder it became. 

She yelled up at the canopy, in no certain spot as she’d lost sight of Arthur’s amber fur. “There’s a river this way!” 

Eloise barely heard him call back, “What?”

She stopped, turned on her heel and cupped her hands around her mouth as if it would amplify her voice, “A river!”

Spurred on by her excitement, she didn’t wait for the cat to catch up and began padding off in the direction of the river. He’d be able to follow her scent just fine- she, however, was thirsty beyond belief. As she drew closer, her tongue and throat felt drier and drier with every step. There was a great empty panging in her stomach from hunger, and she itched to drink as much as she could just so she could stop the uncomfortable throbbing. 

In ten short minutes, she had reached the bank. Glorious pale golden sand lined the edges of the river, the water so crystal clear and blue that she thought it looked as if the pebbles below were sparkling jewels. The forest seemed to part slightly to allow the sunlight a better glimpse of the water, and its rays cast wonderful brilliant lights that danced across its flowing crystalline surface. 

At once she marched to the edge of the waterway, dropping to her knees and allowing the small waves to soak her jeans. Cupping her hands, she didn’t even care to think if the water wasn’t purified. She brought several mouthfuls to her lips, drinking each as fast as she could to ease her stomach. 

At last, she felt so full she thought she might burst. It was a fullness that staved off her hunger at that moment, and hopefully would keep it at bay for another hour. 

She leant back as she revelled in the temporary satisfaction, and caught a glimpse of her bloody shirt. Without much care or thought, she stripped it off, and dipped it fully into the water, soaking it to try and get the blood out.

Elouise doubted the stain would ever fully come out- not unless she found some sort of soap or washing powder. Though the girl was almost certain she wouldn’t be likely to just stumble across either of those things in this forest either. 

As she squeezed and pulled at the stretchy fabric of her shirt, she faintly heard Arthur calling her name. She absently responded, quite absorbed in cleaning as much blood off the clothing as she could. 

The woman spared the cat a glance as he peeled out from the brush, and sped across the bank to her- breathing hard as he hissed at her in annoyance. “I thought I asked you to wait?” 

Eloise wasn’t really in the mood to argue. She clung to the serenity that the rushing of the river brought her with a desperate need for peace. She just wanted a moment  _ to think.  _ To process. She’d hardly taken the time to just sit and breathe in the past few hours, with Arthur and his under-lying panic to find Aslan as quickly as possible. 

She spoke in an airy voice, “I’m just going to let this dry for a moment.” Not looking at him once, she shuffled toward a fallen tree and let her shirt hang across a thin branch. She slumped onto the log beside it, and sat, staring down the length of the river with her lips pressed together in a thin line. 

***

Still standing by the riverside, Arthur watched as the girl dropped beside the log, pressing her back into the curve of the wood. He wasn’t a fool. The cat could tell she was purposely avoiding his gaze, and though he had been annoyed that she’d not listened to him, he felt the tenseness in his shoulders slip away bit by bit as he watched her.

From his recollection, Narnia wasn’t always a kind place. The forests could be highly dangerous, with werewolves, banshees and beasts of  _ all kinds _ running around- not  _ every  _ creature in Narnia was good. 

He’d barely heard the girl’s shouting the first time, and hadn’t even seen her walk off from the top of the oak tree. His heart had clamoured painfully with fear when he’d realised he couldn’t see her. It was lucky, he’d heard her the second time, and with both fear and realisation, he’d clambered down as quickly as he could to take after her. 

The river rush was almost unrecognizable. If it weren’t for how clear the water remained, he might have believed it was a different river altogether. The structure had completely changed, the flow of the water- once so calm and serene, was raging on one side so fiercely he could only think there might be a set of falls nearby. But that in itself was stupid- at least this far west. 

He could remember clearly that the river rush  _ did  _ have falls, but they were supposed to be much farther to the north. Near the White Witch’s castle. 

It was only a few hours into their walk, that he began to realise that Narnia had changed. Much more than he had initially thought. 

It also hadn’t slipped his notice that there was a severe lack of  _ life  _ to the forest. He’d almost expected to run straight into a gathering of Narnians, as the last time he’d been in the forest, it was almost impossible to go an hour without meeting new folk. Whether talking beast, or faun, or centaur or any other manner of creature- he expected to at least have run into  _ someone.  _ Someone they could speak with and ask for directions.

He’d never outwardly admit he was lost- as he was highly embarrassed by his lack of knowledge on their whereabouts. Arthur had a faint idea, but it almost offended him. After a long three years in the strange world of  _ Australia _ , he’d finally been brought  _ home.  _ Yet he landed on his back, with no idea where he was- and to boot, his human barely remembered her own last name. 

That was perhaps, what made the whole situation all the worse. He couldn’t decide if it had been a good thing that she’d lost her memory or not. Certainly, he was glad she didn’t seem to remember what or how they had been  _ brought  _ to Narnia- but to forget almost  _ everything  _ that made her… well  _ her?  _

He thought of the life she had lived in Australia. A  _ boring  _ one to him, but dammit it was  _ her life.  _ Why did she lose those memories? How had she? Was it Aslan? Was it some other mystical force or…? 

The tabby’s ears pinned back as he pondered,  _ was it her injuries?  _ She hadn’t been hit anywhere in the head, and that was why this idea confused him. 

As the cat stood, lost in a confusing muddle of unanswered questions, it was then that he realised he'd not been a very good friend to the girl for the past few hours. Finally, they could actually speak to one another, and all he’d done was answer a few questions as he ushered her across the country-side, desperate to help her regain her memories as quickly as possible. 

He was still honestly reeling from the shock of it all. It had all been so sudden, and he’d been filled with such hatred, that it’d blinded him from realising she needed a moment to breathe. He just wanted this to be fixed. To be put right. 

It was the first time he considered that perhaps he could try and help her remember himself. He had no clue how long it would take to find Aslan, and until they could, he realistically should do his best to help her fill in the gaps herself.

The tabby cat slowly crossed the golden sand, observing the almost vacant expression on the girl's face. His body became wracked with grief, and he dropped onto his hind legs, sitting beside her as he followed her line of sight down the river. 

For a moment, there was only silence. One of them heavy with a heart filled with anguish, the other focusing only on the sounds of the forest- grateful for a moment of pure respite. 

He was hesitant to break the silence but finally gathered the courage. “You can ask me anything, you know.” 

She barely even looked at him. It was almost frightening, seeing the girl so quiet. The woman who’d cared for him in the other world had a naturally bubbly disposition. Seeing her now with such a blank expression was unnerving.  _ Unnatural _ . 

He would have given his fur back if it meant she’d smile again. 

Eloise blinked after a moment as if finally registering that he’d spoken to her. She tilted her head and glanced at him. He felt a little better, seeing the curiosity begin to creep into her eyes. 

“Can… can you tell me more about Narnia?” That stutter as well was just as unnatural as her blank expression was. He held back a sigh, settling in the sand as he began to tell her everything he remembered about Narnia. 

Talking about Narnia brought about a much more pleasant atmosphere. Whilst it wasn’t anything new to him, he felt more glad to be home than ever as he spoke about the White Witch and the tale of the Kings and Queens. He could clearly picture each of their faces- though he’d never met any of them personally, he’d seen them many times from a distance in Cair Paravel. His home. How he’d missed that glorious place.

He wondered how old they would be now. Were they-  _ were they even still alive?  _

As he spoke of the coronation, he did his best to justly describe the magnificence that was the inside of the castle. It was the only time he’d been able to see it himself, but he’d never forget those chandeliers or those high thrones… nor the smiles that everyone had worn that day.

Whilst he’d been speaking, Arthur was glad to see that the more he told her of Narnia, the more she seemed to somewhat relax. She was feeling better- less unfocused and lost as he gave her something  _ worth  _ listening to and committing to memory.

“It sounds beautiful,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees as she shivered slightly. He could see the goosebumps appearing on her tan skin and he felt a twinge of pity. She’d have to acclimate herself to Narnia’s climate, and he had a feeling she might find it difficult, especially during the winter. 

He chipped back, “It really is. I think you’ll love it more when you see it yourself.”

Eloise seemed to hesitate, nibbling her lip a little as she pondered quietly to herself. The girl spoke, “So… the Kings and Queens. They really come from my world?”

Arthur nodded, “They do- but they were from some other country, not Australia. Though I can’t remember which.”

She bobbed her head, processing this information. “Did they ever go back?” 

Arthur shook his head, “No. They’ve been in Narnia for about fourteen years…” He trailed off. “Probably more now. I don’t know what year it is currently.”

Eloise spoke up, “So does that mean I’ll never get to go back?”

Alarmed, he looked up at her with a slightly opened maw. He didn’t know how to answer. His emerald-like eyes peered back, as the light-haired girl blinked down at him, turning her head to face him. 

She opened her mouth, and he had no clue what she was about to say- but she hadn’t the chance to speak, because, in that very moment, they heard the distant echo of a peace-shattering scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beauty of comments and reviews is that they bring so much more inspiration and need to write than just simple views and likes. This chapter is being published ahead of time because of that very reason. I just couldn't hold it back. I wanted to give my readers more to read, more to comment upon, and thus I am pushing myself to write more between my study breaks. I'm trying so hard to control my impulsive desire to publish before I've edited chapters, and so far I am winning. This chapter HAS been edited though, thank goodness- but I still haven't finished writing the next one. Hopefully, I'll be finished and onto the next chapter soon. 
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments and support, I truly hope you enjoy this chapter! A teaser for next chapter, we'll be re-uniting with our favourite centaur child. <3


	4. Chapter 3

At once, the pair were on their feet. Arthur’s back arched high and fur on his neck pricked up with fear. Eloise stood with a slight bend to her knees, ready to push off in a run should the need arise. They both stared off in the direction in which the scream had been emitted. 

The cat’s ears were pinned back, almost entirely flat to his head. His pupils were wide, taking in all the light and shadows they could in an effort to try and find the source of the sudden screeching. Without so much as looking at her, he hissed quietly, “Put your shirt back on Eloise.” 

The girl didn’t have to be asked twice. 

The piercing cry resumed abruptly, and it sounded as though it were travelling closer toward them. Arthur began to usher her away from the sound, but before they could take more than a few steps away from the open bank, Eloise spotted something, and lost all her breath as she cried, “Look there!” Jamming her finger upriver. 

Arthur raced to the edge of the water, trying to see what she could. Taller than him, she’d seen it as it had come around the corner. Although,  _ it  _ was not the right word. They were but a child, and to both the human and the cat’s horror, they were being dragged through the fierce current like they weighed nothing more than a feather.

Without even blinking, the pair had sprung into action. Arthur ran up the bank, toward the child, yelling that everything was going to be okay and that they needed to listen- to stop screaming and stay calm. It was as he drew closer, that Arthur realised it wasn’t just a human. It was a centaur. 

Eloise barely heard anything at all. Before her companion had even spoken, she was already wading waist-deep in the water- her feet firmly on the ground. She could feel the powerful undertow and dared not tread any further into the water. She hadn’t even considered the fact that she was still wearing her skinny jeans, but ignoring the danger, the girl held out her arms- waving them to catch the child's attention. 

Raising her voice, she spoke with such steadiness that it took her by surprise, “Hey look at me kid! I’m right here, It’s going to be okay!” 

Both the child and Arthur looked at her- Arthur’s face growing even more fear-filled as he screeched, “What  _ are  _ you doing?!”

She ignored his indignation, and shouted back at him, “Go find a stick or something Arthur!” 

Arthur spluttered, angrily yelling about what good a damn  _ stick  _ would do- but right at that moment, the boy drew near enough to Eloise for her to jump close enough to latch onto his outstretched hands. 

The combination of the added weight, the strength of the under-tow and her water-logged jeans ultimately were enough to send the taller girl off her feet. She couldn’t stop her head from immediately dipping under the water, but she used the strength she had to pull the boy close to her chest. 

Her lungs hurt, and the blood pounded in her skull. The adrenaline and worry in her didn’t escalate until she realised she could barely kick her own legs to raise her head up. There was a massive cramp growing in both her thighs, but feeling the strain on her body from the lack of breath, desperation and survival instincts kicked in- telling her to tilt her body back- and finally her face breached the surface.

The woman gave a crackling gasp for air, the water that had dripped into her mouth entering her lungs. Wrought with a violent hacking cough, she croaked in the child’s ear as she struggled for release. “Hold on!”

She finally registered the shouts of her cat on the bank. He’d been following them both as they went crashing downstream. She could only  _ just  _ see him racing alongside them between the bursting waves. “The log Eloise! The log!” That was all she heard.  _ The log. The log. The log.  _

Using the momentum of the water, she gave one powerful kick to send them spinning around, and finally, she was looking in the direction they were headed. She panicked when at first she couldn’t see anything. Not a log above water, or even a rock. 

But then she noticed the waves that rose and broke over something that was hiding  _ just  _ under the surface. There was a risk they might get hurt- a stray branch could puncture them easily with the opposing force of the waves. 

She gave another hard kick, positioning herself in front of the young one. “Go left!” She yelled over the waves to him. 

There was no time to say anything else. 

The pair frantically kicked their legs, swimming as best they both could manage. There were more than a few times where Eloise felt a hard  _ thwack  _ against her side and legs- the child's movements even more uncoordinated than hers. She was almost convinced his shoes had to be made of stone to hit that hard.

Her sight had become blurry, and right as she’d lost sight of the log, the two became lodged up against it. It didn’t hurt so much as the boy’s kicks had, but the sheer force and abruptness of the collision knocked the air clean out of her and she took in yet another gulp of water. Spluttering and barely managing a clear breath, her arm had gone completely numb around the boy’s shoulders. 

The water coursed over their heads and through every gap around their bodies. For a moment, they simply clung to it, catching their breath as they kept their heads down. Both of them held their eyes tightly shut, mouths wide open and both coughing up a storm.

She heard her name being frantically called from the shore, and once she’d finally brought herself back to a steady breath, she pressed her hand into the child's shoulder, ordering him to carefully move toward the shore.

The moment of peace they had taken allowed their bodies to register exactly how much energy they had expended. If it weren't for the log that remained firmly stuck in place, they’d have been easily swept away once more. 

Exhausted and muscles screaming in pain, they clambered along the slippery algae covered log. Eloise had to resort to using her shoulders and arms mostly- she couldn’t feel her legs at all.

It was with dazed faces and bruised bodies that the two finally found their way out of the current and onto the riverbed. Her hands found purchase in the sand and she fell onto her side once they were finally at the river's edge. She rested her face on the ground, not caring that the sand was exceedingly itchy upon her face. Half her body still lay in the water, she had barely the strength to move her legs enough to fully emerge. 

The girl could sense the boy collapse beside her, just as tired, and breathing just as shallow and fast as herself. She hadn’t even the power to lift her head to turn and look at him.

A patch of sunlight lit up one side of her face, and she attempted to slow her breath, taking in the redness of her closed eyelids. She could hear Arthur run across the sand to them both, begging them to answer him. 

Eloise didn’t open her eyes until she felt a frantic licking at her forehead. Through a half-lidded gaze, she looked at the cat, and murmured, “It’s okay now… we’re safe.”

She heard a very faint groan beside her, and hissing in pain, she pushed against the sand with her arms to turn her entire body to face the boy. Then she collapsed again, and let out a deep sigh of her own. 

Then the girl finally got a good look at the child she’d rescued. He couldn’t have been more than ten years at most. She surveyed him carefully, looking across his face at the small scratches and grazes. They would be okay, she wasn’t worried about a few scrapes. As she continued to look him over, she reached out to brush the ginger hair out of his face and saw something on the boy's head that made her pause.

“What the…” she whispered, raising a mass of his curls to look at his funny-shaped ear. Eloise rose up to press an elbow hard into the sand, allowing her a better look of the boy. At once, she spotted a second,  _ much larger _ oddity. 

Below the resting boy's waist, were the legs and torso of a horse.

To not stare, was  _ impossible  _ for her. She had to scrunch her eyes up, blinking them open to make sure she was seeing things clearly. The blots of colour in her sight flickered each time she did, and it wasn’t till Arthur's voice suddenly spoke out, that she realised that  _ yes.  _ She was indeed looking at a centaur. 

“Eloise, answer me! Are you okay?” The tabby had padded around the centaurs shoulders to stand in her line of sight again- he looked up at her with a furious expression. 

Perhaps it was the way that her face had gone pale with disbelief, or the simple fact that she was openly staring wide-eyed at the boy’s hooves. The child didn’t stir, his eyes shut as he breathed shallowly on his side, a thick trickle of water and saliva dribbled out the corner of his small lips. Arthur re-directed his attention momentarily, also giving the boy a proper look, and as he caught sight of what held the girl’s attention most, he turned back to her and confirmed, “Yes. He is one of the Narnians was telling you about. You’re not dreaming Eloise.”

“I gathered that I just…” she swallowed deeply. She went to continue but paused as she noticed a much larger cut on the boy's side. “He’s hurt!” The girl heaved, pushing up on her elbow to sit fully on her rump to get a better look. 

She ignored the way that her center of gravity seemed to sway like the waves, she couldn’t keep her damn head still but didn’t care at that moment. She gently pried the boy's blood coated arm away from his side, laying it so it bent and was tucked up against his chest. 

Arthur raised himself and placed his paws on the boy’s shoulders to prop himself up, also surveying the wound. It was about half the length of the forearm, jagged and splinters were wedged in the exposed flesh. They both winced- it didn’t take much imagination to realise the boy had been likely skewered by a stray branch whilst he’d been fighting for his life. 

The lucky thing was, it seemed longer than it was deep. As far as they were aware, it wasn’t bleeding as heavily as it would have been if the centaur had ruptured an important vein. That was a small relief, but nevertheless, it had to be addressed quickly. 

The cat padded around to the boy's head, looking at his face for a moment as he said, “He seems to be unconscious. You should try and clean the wound now-” Eloise hissed quietly, “ _ Me _ ?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and he responded in a hushed tone too, “ _ Yes you. _ Does it  _ look  _ like I have hands?” He was still apparently miffed at her blatant disregard for her own life.

She looked at him with flared nostrils, “Don’t you think we should find someone more, I don’t know,  _ qualified _ ? What if I make it worse?”

Arthur snapped back, “We haven’t come across anyone in the past  _ seven hours, _ do you really think we’ll just  _ happen  _ upon a doctor in the middle of these woods in the next few  _ minutes _ ?”

A rosy blush coloured her cheeks and ears, one that the cat took as a sign that she was at least physically okay for the most part. The woman glared at the cat but hesitantly resigned herself to the task with a worried furrow of her brow. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help the boy, she was just  _ terrified  _ that she’d do something wrong. 

Arthur knew this, and instructed calmly, “It’s going to be okay. You'll have to take out the splinters and stop any bleeding that happens as you do it- just use a bit of your shirt.”

She exhaled a shaky breath, trembling as she grasped one of her sleeves. After a few moments of struggling and fierce yanking, the seams tore apart and she bundled it up into a ball, dunking it into the river to wet it. 

Not having the slightest clue of what she was doing, she wrung out a good slosh of water over the wound, rinsing it first before she actually touched it herself. She made sure to wash any dirt off her own hands before she began one by one, picking and removing the splinters- pressing the sleeve into the wound to stop any small bleeds that occurred. 

At every small groan and whimper from the boy, she felt her heart thundering with fright- but thankfully, he didn’t fully regain consciousness until much later that night. 

To her utter surprise, she  _ had  _ been able to get a fire started. She was quite proud but kept this to herself as she sat close to the flickering embers, her back resting against a thick fallen tree trunk. 

It was only small, but it provided enough warmth to keep them from freezing to death- although both she and the child were still shivering and partially wet from the afternoon’s events. Arthur had been strangely quiet, and deep down she suspected he was still quite upset with her. 

Though, to be quite honest, she didn’t particularly care. She wasn’t going to stand by and watch the child drown. What did he expect her to do? To shout instructions and hope the boy would be able to calm down enough to listen?

As she stared into the crackling flames, Arthur finally broke the silence- much like her, unable to sleep and still thinking over the day's events.

“It’s been quite the day, hasn’t it?” His voice was shockingly calm, and she shot him a slightly suspicious look as she hummed back, “It has.”

There was a tenseness in her shoulders that she knew wouldn't leave her until she talked it out. She bit, scathingly, “I’m not going to apologize for saving his life.”

From across the fire, the cat gave her a hard look, “I don’t expect you to- but you can’t just rush in and hope for the best in these kinds of situations, Eloise.” 

She couldn’t believe she was being told off by a cat. “ _ I know that,  _ but  _ what else _ was I supposed to do?” 

He responded evenly, “You could have thrown him a lifeline, instead of jumping in yourself for starters.” 

She would have snarled that  _ she  _ had told him to do the exact same thing- but couldn’t. Arthur’s mouth was smaller than her fist- logically, anything that he’d have been able to toss at them would likely have been more of a hindrance than helpful. 

Eloise grew silent, a scowl on her face as her blue gaze stared deep into the flame. Her arms crossed tightly along her chest, she brought her knees closer to herself and shook her head with bitterness.

The human could hear Arthur sigh from across the fire, but dare not raise her gaze to him. She  _ didn’t  _ feel guilty, she thought to herself.  _ Couldn’t  _ and  _ wouldn’t. _

There was a sudden pressure against her side and she jolted violently. Arthur had padded around the fire and was now pressing his forehead into her, his ears drooped down to the ground. Silent, she took in how warm his fur felt beside her, and she begrudgingly acknowledged the real reason she knew he was angry. 

He had been scared for her life. 

All she could recall about the cat that she’d owned in the other world, was that he had no fur, and that his name had also been Arthur… but she couldn’t remember much else aside from that. How she had come to own him, what his temperament had been like- did she play with him often? Did she love him or hate him? Did she take him places with her? 

This tabby cat might have the same eyes, bore the same name but without her memories, how could she trust that what he was saying was true? It would be so easy to manipulate her in her current state, to twist her thoughts. More than anything, she was terrified that he might be lying.

It wasn’t fair. She could feel him exhale a shaky breath beside her, and she wondered. What would he gain from lying? He had helped her so far-  _ worried  _ for her,  _ cared  _ for her. _ _

The woman’s glare softened to a pout. Eloise un-tucked her arms, and using one gentle motion, brought him closer to her. He allowed her to lift him up into her lap and purred softly as he pressed his muzzle into her shoulder. 

She murmured gently, soothing him, “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

The cat muttered back, “It’s alright, you’ve always been like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Reckless. Stubborn. A pain in the rear,” he chuckled. 

She was ready to push him off, and bit, “Well excuse  _ me-”  _

He interrupted, “And brave. You’ve  _ always  _ been bravest of them all.” She grew quiet and didn’t entirely know how to respond. In a way, she felt as though she could almost  _ hear  _ the memories in his voice. Couldn’t visualise them, wondered what he was seeing, but she quite easily picked up on the fondness in his voice. Fondness for  _ her.  _

She hesitantly brushed a hand through his fur, and when he didn’t protest, continued to gently pet him. What brought them on, she didn’t have the faintest clue, but tears were growing fast at the edge of her eyes. She quietly whimpered, “Were… did we get along?  _ Before _ .”  _ Were we friends? _

He pulled back, seeing her glassy eyes and he nodded. “We did. Not all the time, but…” 

That was enough. She pulled him back into her chest and let out a sob, “Good.” She buried her face into his fur, her face contorting into a mix of pain, sorrow and fear. 

Near her ear, he spoke, “It’s going to be okay Eloise. I know it might not feel like it, and it’s going to be scary for you- but you’ve always taken good care of me. So now it’s my duty to take care of you.”

She held him tighter, revelling in the warmth that his fur enveloped her in, and the comfort his presence brought to her heart. A beat of silence, they endured together the cold breeze and for a moment, forgot their troubles. Eloise looked up after a moment, and the moment came to a halt. 

Two bright eyes were fixed upon her with terror. She couldn’t quite tell what colour they were.

She gave Arthur a small shake, and nodded toward the centaur, “I’m glad you’re awake.” Immediately the cat turned in her grip, and she loosened her hold. “Do you feel better?”

On his side, the boy laid with such an expression of fear that she could almost feel it coming off him in waves. The child began to tremble violently as he looked at her and the cat over- confused, yet all the same, petrified by their presence. 

He did not answer her question, but both cat and human could see the tension in his body growing with each passing second. 

The woman looked at him with a kind smile, but there was a hint of worry in the small wrinkles that appeared between her brows. She pushed Arthur gently out of her lap and had just gotten onto her knees, when the boy suddenly sprung to life. 

In one giant motion, he’d tried to get to his feet with a combination of momentum and weight, but didn’t account for any injuries or soreness. He barely made it to his wobbly knees, but he was letting out such a shrill scream of, “No get away! Please don’t kill me!” Furiously he thrashed his arms and legs about, kicking the air and anything that got close.

At once they had sprung away from him. Both were shouting that it was okay, but the boy was too frightened to listen. They both felt the drop of their stomachs as his side began to bleed again. 

Desperately trying to stand fully, the boy became even more distressed at his lack of strength. Eloise side-stepped to try and catch his gaze as she held her hands up, shouting at the top of her lungs, “We’re not trying to hurt you! Please you’ll hurt yourself!” She yelped, dodging a swift kick as the boy reared away from her, as if she were the devil himself.

It wasn’t till Arthur sprang up onto her shoulder, claws digging into her to hold on firmly, that the boy caught sight of him- a talking beast. A fellow Narnian. His horse legs splayed, arms still in front of him, the centaur gaped at him wild-eyed. 

Arthur was still calling to him, “We’ll not harm you, please just stop moving! You’re bleeding!”

The centaur child looked positively horrified, and pointed at Arthur, spitting in disgust, “B-but you’re like me! A Narnian! Why are you with that Telmarine?” 

Arthur and Eloise exchanged befuddled looks, and unanimously chimed, “What’s a Telmarine?” They looked at the centaur for answers- but he only stared back at them in confusion. 

After a stretch of silence, the boy began to give Eloise a thorough look. It was difficult to see in the darkness, so she shuffled back a few steps, toward the firelight.

With a better look at her, the tension seemed to begin to dissipate. The centaur’s posture became less frightened, though bewilderment took its place. “You’re… you’re not a Telmarine?” 

Eloise shook her head, “No, I have no idea what that is.”

Arthur chipped in, “She can’t be. She’s from the land of Spare Oom.” 

It was Eloise’s turn to look bewilderedly at him as she thought,  _ the what?  _ Arthur explained, “It’s what the Narnians call your world.” She formed an ‘o’ with her lips, quietly acknowledging this simple explanation with a nod. 

The centaur hesitantly interrupted, “You’re… you’re from the lands of the old Kings and Queens?”

The girl turned back to him, tipping her head in a silent  _ yes.  _ She breathed evenly through slightly parted lips as Arthur stepped closer to the Centaur. “It’s true. I swear it on Aslan’s name.”

The centaur looked down at him, torn between something akin to hope and disbelief. He asked the cat, “How is it possible that you’ve never heard of a Telmarine?” 

The flickering embers cast a bright light on the centaur- his hair burning almost as fierce as the flame itself. As the cat spoke, he too shone brilliantly in the red glow, “That’s a bit tricky to explain… I’ve- I’ve been away for a long time.”

The boy narrowed his eyes and tilted his head at the cat, “How long?” 

“The last time I was in Narnia, High King Peter had just celebrated his twenty-eighth name-day.” 

The child spluttered, “But that would mean- you would have to be over a thousand years old if that were true!”

Arthur blanched at this suggestion, “ _ What _ ?” The fur on his neck rose in shock. 

The centaur explained, his long horse ears pinned to the sides of his head, “The time of High King Peter- we call it the Golden Age. That was over a thousand years ago. You can’t have been  _ alive  _ then. You’d be ancient!”

Arthur slumped onto his hind legs- muttering, “ _ A thousand years. _ A thousand  _ years _ !”

Concerned for her friend, Eloise lowered herself to the ground, resting her knees into the sand as she stretched out a hand and rested it on the tabby’s shoulders. The cat continued to mutter that singular number over and over as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

The human, however, had other thoughts on her mind. If it had been a thousand years, then what had happened to the Kings and Queens? Were they dead? And who were the Telmarines? 

The girl looked up, into the wide eyes of the boy. Neither of them seemed to know what to say or do. She glanced down at his wound, eying the trickle of blood. From her jean pocket, she took out the sleeve she’d used before and offered it to him. “Here please, use this to stop the bleeding.” 

He hesitated, but after a minute of holding it out, he took it from her fingertips- careful to not even slightly brush hands. As he pressed the fabric into his side, from below her she realised Arthur had gone terribly quiet. 

Tilting her head, she ran a hand softly over his forehead. She had an idea of what he was thinking, and as he turned his chin up to look at her, he whimpered, “Eloise my… my family they’re… they’re gone then. _ A thousand years… _ ” 

If she hadn’t believed he was her cat before- she did now. Banishing all doubts she ever had of him, Eloise reached under his arms and lifted him to her chest to hold him tight. She curled her shoulders around him, sheltering him as he continued to airily repeat those few words.  _ A thousand years.  _

She looked back at the boy but didn’t once lessen her grip on her cat. A part of her wished he’d take his words back, but she couldn’t be angry with him- for he too looked to be a mess of emotions. 

The girl thought back to Arthur’s first words to her.  _ I’ll fix this.  _

She didn’t even know what family Arthur had, but she wished, more than anything that she could have said those words back to him. That she could restore whatever it was he’d lost.

“It’s late,” She breathed. “We-we’ll sort this out in the morning.” 

Arthur had no words left to respond to her with. The Centaur took a little convincing on Eloise’s part before she could reassure him that she wouldn’t hurt any Narnian- including himself. He seemed too tired to continue fighting and agreed to stay, but a part of her feared that she’d wake up and he’d be gone.

There wasn’t much she could do if he did decide to run off; so balancing her cat in one arm, she silently fed the fire a few more branches before settling down for the night. As she lay down, resting her head on her curved arm with Arthur tucked tightly against her, she spoke softly across the distance to where the boy was hesitantly sliding back down into the sand. “Um… Just so you know, my name is Eloise.”

Through the flickering embers, she could see the boy hesitate before she heard him reply, “I... I’m Lightning Bolt.”

She sent him a wide, yet pained smile, “It’s nice to meet you Lightning Bolt.” _ An interesting name,  _ she thought. 

Lightning Bolt didn’t respond, and it wasn’t till hours later- after he was sure that both the strange human and cat had fallen into deep slumbers of their own- that he too closed his eyes and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice big old chapter for my lovely readers! This one is over 4,500 words! I'm quite proud of it actually. :D
> 
> I deliver this to you now because I'm unsure if I'll be updating in the next week or two. It's my 21st birthday next weekend, and I want to focus on getting as much of my studies finished as I can beforehand. I have a bunch of assignments due the next week, so I'm going to be quite busy!!!
> 
> I have to say though, I've more than revived my love for this story. I've re-written the outline, and I've planned for almost 60 chapters ahead but I still haven't yet reached the conclusion- thus I announce that this story is now going to span over two books! How exciting. :D
> 
> I can't wait to see you all in the next chapter. Let me know what you think of this one! Our poor Lightning Bolt's had a rough day. T-T


	5. Chapter 4

The morning brought with it the cold. The air was tainted by the remnants of smoke and ash of the dying fire. It had burnt and consumed through the hours until almost nothing but soot had been left behind. A few hopeful embers still clung to small clumps of coal, much to the girl’s relief.

Eloise felt beyond grateful that her clothes had mostly dried through the night, though her fingers and toes still felt like ice. As she scoured the forest floor for kinderling, she periodically rubbed her hands together and breathed hot air over her digits, doing what little she could to keep them warm and flexible. 

The sun had barely risen in the sky when both she and Arthur had woken. The little centaur- _ Lightning Bolt _\- still slept soundly, and It was without debate that the two decided breakfast would be required. 

The cat seemed much calmer, and he shook off her concerns for his well-being. She wasn’t entirely sure if he was simply putting on a brave face for her sake, or if the talking-beast actually _ did _feel better now that he’d slept. He had been quite overwhelmed the previous night, and though he wasn’t bouncing with happiness, the cat didn’t appear to be as distressed anymore.

Far too restless to stay stationary for long, the tabby set off with the promise of returning with whatever prey he could find. It was with uncertainty in her blue gaze that she watched him sneak off into the bushes. Quietly the girl acknowledged she was glad he looked more held-together than expected. She wasn’t sure what she could have done if he was still upset when he woke. 

Soundlessly Eloise began searching for more wood to revive the fire with. She didn’t stray far, and quite often looked back to the bank, keeping herself near so she could hear if the child stirred. She wanted to be near when the boy awoke, so he wouldn’t feel too alone- but kept some distance as not to frighten the poor thing. 

It had bothered her- that _ she _was the source of his fearful reaction. The girl knew the centaur had his reasons, but while she’d not always had a deep affection for children; to see one so terrified of her mere presence greatly disheartened the human. 

To say she was curious, would be a severe understatement- If the speed at which she gathered the kinderling was anything to go by. There had been so many questions racing through her mind, that she’d almost been completely unable to sleep- but her exhaustion had made quick work of her. The girl had barely been able to stay conscious for a few seconds after her head had touched the ground.

She still felt sore from the beating the rough waters had given her the day before. Part of her hadn’t been expecting to feel so tender. The ache in her muscles was enough to make her wince when she moved too quickly- but she pushed through the pain with a resilient need to finish her task.

With haste, Eloise tightened her hands around the bundle she’d collected, making her way back to the river with wide steps over the shrubbery and little care of the small scratches she received from the shrubbery. It wasn’t till she drew nearer that she realised she’d forgotten to keep an eye on the boy; as she was surprised to find him on his feet, looking around wildly as if he were wondering if he’d been dreaming.

Her loud shuffling through the thick foliage alerted him to her company, and though he didn’t seem startled by her appearance, she could see his shoulders grow tense. The girl paused as her shoes met the sand, and as they stood across the fire from one another, the distance began to look much shorter than it actually was.

Now that daylight once again had graced them with its presence, they each took a moment to survey each other with a shared peculiarity. It occured to the human, that she- in her odd torn clothes that had dried into a wrinkly mess- likely looked almost as strange to the Centaur as he and his half-horse body was to her. 

As she dropped to her knees to set the tinder in the sand, she’d been seconds from greeting him, but Lightning Bolt appeared to suddenly lack the immense control it took him to keep silent. 

_ ‘You’re the weirdest looking human I’ve ever seen,’ _ Is what she thought he _ might _have intended to say. He seemed to blurt it out so abruptly that his own mind hadn’t yet been able to conjure the most polite, and direct expression of these thoughts- thus it came out as, “Clothes look painful.” The moment he’d said the words, his cheeks had flushed a shade not too dissimilar from his own curly locks. 

Eloise had to run this sentence through her head twice before she understood what he was trying to say- and she couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. Lightning Bolt appeared relieved his words hadn’t offended the girl, and she could see his face contort oddly in his effort to not smile back. 

Pushing her hair away away from her face, she replied, “They’re rather comfy actually- but not exactly meant for this sort of terrain.” 

The centaur nodded at her response, trying and failing miserably to stop himself from constantly eying her tight jeans and odd shoes off. An amusing thought occurred to her- _ What would a centaur look like if he wore jeans? _

At this thought, she added, “I wouldn’t recommend them to you though- they’re not really your style.” A giggle came spluttering from her lips as she spoke, and she hung her head, shaking it to try and rid herself of the image of a grown centaur in light blue skinny jeans. 

Lightning Bolt looked unable to decide if he should laugh or not. He elected to stay silent as the girl’s shoulders stopped shaking from laughter, watching as she began to start working at the fire again, pressing kindling to the embers and blowing gently to stoke the coal. 

As the heat of the embers seemed to sense the presence of more fuel to burn, the flames leapt up with excitement and greedily began to churn through the sticks and dry leaves. The human fed it two larger branches and then proceeded to shuffle back, till she no longer felt her eyes burning in their sockets.

Crossing her legs, she looked up from the fire to the centaur, whom had also moved a fair distance from the now roaring flame. She spoke clearly, “Arthur has gone hunting. He should be back soon, and then we’ll have breakfast.”

The boy’s jade-like eyes widened with surprise, and he awkwardly replied, “Um… Centaurs don’t eat meat.” 

She blinked at him for a moment, a look on her face like shock, and then she leant back- so much so that her double chin stuck out as she gasped, “Shit- of course you don’t. Oh I’m so sorry, I’m a complete idiot._ Half-horse, _ I should have known that-” she spluttered, rising to her feet. “I’ll uh…” She gestured toward the forest, but felt a sharp drop in her confidence. She didn’t know what the hell to feed this poor boy- should she start gathering a plate of grass? But what if he didn’t eat grass either? Why oh why, had she been so daft?

The child seemed unsure of what to make of her colorful language, but seeing her uncertainty, he hesitantly replied, “It’s okay, I’m- I’m not really hungry anyway.” 

She huffed, “_ Bullshit _ you need to eat. That was a rough time you had yesterday, and If _ I’m _ starving, then I know you must be.” Her face felt hot, and her tongue felt much _ looser- _she knew she shouldn’t have sworn, but the words slipped unabashedly from her lips without her control.

The boy- whether or not he understood what cuss words were- looked almost sheepish. It was the kind of look a child gave when both their hands were caught in the cookie jar, but he was insistent that he didn’t feel hungry. 

Eloise would have argued more with the centaur, but right at that moment the orange tabby padded out from under the brush, stealing her attention. She noted, with a twinge of disappointment, that he’d returned with no luck. The ache in her stomach was almost as great as the soreness of her body. In truth, she was _ miserable. _Her first days in Narnia were turning out to be quite awful. 

She spoke sullenly, feeling the heat leave her cheeks as mopery took over, “I suppose none of us will be eating then.” 

Arthur appeared quite cranky, and snapped at her, “_ I _ did my best. I’d like to see _ you _try running your damn socks off after a squirrel or two.”

Eloise held her hands up in the air, “Calm down, I didn’t mean it like _ that.” _

The cat sighed, a very flat and frustrated look on his face, “I know you didn’t, I just-” he let out a growl. He took a moment to squeeze his eyes shut, and sat by the fire, taking in such a deep breath his head rocked back, right until he exhaled and dropped it to touch his chin to his chest. 

Both the centaur and the girl couldn’t decide what to look at- each other, the cat, or the fire. Finally the feline looked up at the centaur and asked, “How are you feeling now? Ready to talk more?”

So out of the blue this question had been- not to mention, quite _ to the point _\- that the ginger haired child appeared a little taken off guard. His eyes flicked to Eloise, and he appeared to want to seek reassurance from her, but thought better of it and stepped slightly away from them both. 

The girl noted the intenseness of the gaze Arthur had fixed the boy with- how it made the boy hesitate as he replied, “I uh- okay.” She wasn’t sure for how long a cat would mourn, but friend or not, she quietly promised to herself, that she wouldn’t let her cat take any of his feelings out on this child. 

_ Not that he would, intentionally, _ she thought. A callous whisper chimed, _ wouldn’t he? You don’t really know _ do you? _ You don’t know _ him _ . _

No_ , don’t allow yourself to go there Eloise _. Neither cat nor centaur saw the girl shake her head.

Arthur spoke evenly, “Good. I have some questions that I really need you to answer as best you can- is that alright?” For a creature that didn’t even reach the boy’s knees when standing, it was almost funny to see him command such attention from the centaur. 

“I’ll try I suppose,” he replied uncertainly. His large horse ears were folded back slightly, and upon his face there was an almost _ worried _expression; as if he were afraid of saying something wrong. 

“That’s all I need. Now,” Arthur began, “Firstly, who are these Telmarines that you spoke of yesterday? You seemed frightened of them. Are they someone we ought to worry about?” 

At the mere mention of the word, the blood seemed to drain a little from the boys cheeks. He seemed unsure of how best to answer, and as he spoke it sounded as if he were on the verge of losing his voice entirely, “They’re… they’re the bad men.”

The girl felt something akin to ice fly through her veins. It had been something in the way he had said it. She could feel his words almost planting the very seeds of fear themselves. If they would blossom, she didn’t have enough information to know yet- but, she became very aware, that this boy clearly was _ terrified _of them for good reason.

Arthur too, seemed to sense this and spoke hastily, “I need to know what’s happened between now and the- you called it the Golden Age, correct?” The cat’s tail swished furiously along the sand, creating small mounds either side of the sweeping motion. The boy nodded once, and the tabby demanded, “Tell me everything.”

Eloise stopped the boy from speaking, and she looked down at her cat with a frown, “Arthur, he might not know-”

“It’s okay Miss Eloise,” Lightning Bolt interrupted her, a little more confident as she caught his gaze with a hint of worry in her blue eyes. “I know a little, but…” The young centaur’s gaze flicked between the cat and human. She could physically see the cogs turning in his head. 

Arthur parroted, though his voice sounded a little gentler, “But what?” 

“It,” the boy started, “I…” he thought harder. He was starting openly at Eloise now, his eyes a blazing fire of forest green. “If you’re _ really _from the Land of Spare Oom then…”

The cat replied “She is,” just as quickly as Eloise had spoken, “I am.” 

The boy let out a sharp breath, and _ finally _he appeared to have decided that he believed them. “Then I think you ought to come meet my uncle. He’s the leader of my herd and-and I think he’s been waiting for you for a very long time.” The centaur seemed to take in a baited breath, gazing straight at her as he awaited her response. 

She’d been taken aback to say the least. Of all the things she’d expected him to say- _ that _was certainly not on the list. Not quite sure how to respond, she blinked furiously as she stared back at the boy with a heavily furrowed brow.

Arthur however, seemed to catch on _ much _ quicker than she did. “Your uncle? Has there been another prophecy?” She wasn’t sure why, but at the word _ prophecy, _her heart began to beat harder in her chest.

Eloise felt more and more confused as the boy responded, “I’m not sure. They wouldn’t tell me- but uncle Glenstorm has been stargazing more often than he usually does the past few weeks.” The tabby’s ears pricked up at this. She could see him practically _ twitching _with excitement. 

_ Glenstorm. Lightning Bolt. Aslan. Narnia. What is _ with _ all these odd names? _

Lightning Bolt continued, “I’m not sure what that means, but I don’t think this is a coincidence- that you’ve come to Narnia.”

Arthur agreed, “No one arrives in Narnia by _ coincidence. _Eloise is here for a reason- and you and I both know it.” 

Said light-brown haired girl grew a little bit annoyed, and barked, “_ I’m right here you know- _ Will you please stop talking in _ riddles _?”

Both talking beast and centaur looked up at her- and she almost wanted to take back her words. They looked at her _ knowingly- _even though both were shorter and younger than herself. She now wanted to kick something and hide at the same time. 

The two exchanged a glance, and with only a few short words more, they set off- following the centaur who promised to do his best to lead them to his herd. 

A few steps behind, the girl trudged on with a heavy stride. She knew for a fact now, that Arthur _ hadn’t _told her everything she ought to know about Narnia. Whether she was angry about this or not, she couldn’t decide- she was still reeling from the strange turn that the conversation had taken. 

***

Almost three hours passed, and Eloise still didn’t feel any better. Unlike herself however, the small centaur had a bit of a skip in his step as he led them forward, stopping here and there at various roots and trees to observe them. 

Though they hadn’t asked any more questions, the boy spoke in a voice that was now oddly chipper, “My uncle will answer all your questions, I know it. He’ll be so glad to see you!” 

Under her breath the human grumbled, “Yeah I wish I could say the same.”

Having heard her, Arthur glanced questioningly over his shoulder at her. She shot him a displeased glare and he slowed down to walk beside her, speaking quietly to her, “What are you so grumpy about?” 

She looked down at him, raising a brow, “Because none of what’s happening makes any sense _whatsoever_?” The frown on her lips grew as she thought aloud, “Why are we following him? Shouldn’t we be looking for Aslan_?_” 

Arthur sharply looked forward at the Centaur, but the boy continued trotting along, too focused on ensuring he was going the right direction to bother listening to either of them. He turned back to her after he was sure he hadn’t heard her speak, “A thousand years have passed since I was last here- don’t you think it would be smarter to catch up on that history first? You know, _ before _we go traversing the wilderness?”

“Sure- okay, _ that’s fine _ ,” she begrudgingly admitted, “but what was all that talk about a prophecy?” As she tried to hold the cat’s gaze from below her, clusters of her long hair fell into her face, annoying her just enough to make her rip a thin long piece off the bottom of her shirt. Oh what she would _ give _for a hair tie. Or a burger.

As they plodded on after the centaur, they kept their heads down and voices quiet. Occasionally Arthur would glance up to check they were still on track, but mostly he continued to look back at the confused girl. 

Threading her fingers through the tangles in her hair, she did what little she could to tidy it up before securing it all into a low ponytail. As she did so, beside her the tabby cat explained, “Do you remember what I told you about the Pevensies? How they came to Narnia and helped Aslan defeat the White Witch?” 

“Yes I remember.” She couldn’t take it. _ The unknowing. _What had he not been telling her?

“Well, they didn’t just _ stumble _ into Narnia. When the Witch Witch first rose to power, there was a prophecy that spoke of four humans that had the power to defeat the Queen,” he padded a few steps ahead of her, leaping up onto a large boulder that brought him level with her head. “You see Eloise- no one is brought to Narnia without good reason. You’re here because you are _ meant _to be.” 

_ I’m meant to be here. Meant to be. _That single notion changed quite a bit in her head. She’d been riding off the assumption that her arrival had been an accident. Before the mention of prophecies, she’d believed it to be unintentional, the arrival of any other worldly beings in Narnia. 

But alas. _ This wasn’t an accident. _

Arthur spoke with a hint of pride to his voice, “When King Peter and his siblings came, they helped defeat the wicked witch and became legends. You were _ destined _to come here just like them. I know it!” 

She felt cold as the breeze blew against her, embracing her as the girl stopped to look deep into his beady green eyes, and she spoke, “So whether I like it or not, you're telling me I’m going to be dragged into some sort of war to fight against a big bad evil?”

Arthur frowned, and pinned back his ears. “No that’s not what I’m saying-” 

She interrupted, “And my memories- was I _ destined _to lose them too?”

The feline appeared quite hurt by these words, and stumbled over his words before she relented a little, giving voice to her concerns. “I can’t even remember my mother's name,” She croaked, “Arthur _ the last thing _ that I need is an entire _ people _hoping that I’ll be some sort of prophesied savior.”

His eyes were a little wider, and he appeared almost guilty. “I’m not like King Peter,” She begged, a whimper in her voice, “Arthur _ please- _ ” More than anything, she was _ scared _ . Scared that- just like her past- her future might _ also _ be completely out of her control. What could she _ do, _ what left did she have to _ give? _ All she had were a few scattered memories and scars from a trauma she couldn’t remember. 

Sure, it had happened with King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy- but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be like them. Brave, selfless- _ noble _. 

She was beginning to realise just how out of place she was in this land. Swords, knights, kings and queens. Prophecies, talking animals- _ centaurs. _All the knowledge she had was useless to her in this world. 

The talking-beast tried to assure her, “L-let’s not worry about that yet-” 

“Arthur-” she stopped. The girl had just realised she’d lost sight of the centaur. “I can’t see him,” 

***

For a moment, Arthur wished he could turn back time. Un-do all that had been done. To him- to _ her. _To Narnia. 

Everything… 

He had imagined a great deal of things when he dreamed of returning to Narnia with his best friend. This was not what he thought would be written on that shooting star he wished upon, as it cast over their house in Australia. 

She wasn’t _ meant _ to lose her memories, he wasn’t _ meant _ to return over a thousand years _ late. _At least- that’s what he liked to believe. 

But he couldn’t deny it- he wanted her to have that same glory that High King Peter had. She deserved it, that much he was sure of… but how could he expect her to want it too, when the girl barely recalled her own country? 

Was this really how it was supposed to be- for him to be so… _ so helpless? _ So completely _ unable _to give his friend the answers she needed most? 

Was this the payment she had earned; when she’d taken him in all those years ago? 

He’d never doubted so much in his life before- he’d never _ questioned _the very reason he walked the land of Narnia. When he’d been thrust into Eloise’s world, scared and lost, he had felt like discarded waste. Left to his own fate. 

Then she had come- she had saved him from that lonely death he’d felt was to be his curse. It had taken time, but eventually he understood. He was there-_ because of her _. 

But now- he doubted it all again. Maybe he _ was _ cursed. Was this his fault? Had he meddled in her destiny, and in doing so doomed her to a life without memories? _ What were the rules of this game that the fates were playing at? _

And moreover… How did Aslan come into this? 

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find that lion or not. 

At Eloise’s voice, the cat wrenched his head away, darkened eyes seeking the figure of the centaur. Failing to lay eyes on him, his head and heart hurt- his deepening worries for his companion adding to the more pressing issue of the disappearance of their guide. 

Lifting his nose to the air, he could still find strong traces of horse hair and herbs. Glancing sullenly up at the girl, he spoke, “Don’t worry- he can’t have gotten far.” 

He slipped quietly down from the boulder, padding through the trees with his head close to his shoulders. The boy’s tracks were easy to follow, and proved enough of a distraction to keep him momentarily from debating how best to provide his human with weightless reassurance.

Absently he called out the centaurs name. He wasn’t overly concerned, but after a moment he realised the boy hadn’t responded. The talking-beast raised his head, pricked his ears up a little higher and his eyes narrowed. 

He couldn’t have gone that far, could he? Far enough to not hear him call out? 

Arthur picked up his pace- he could hear Eloise’s loud stumbling steps behind him as she followed. The cat trotted ahead slightly, leaping over small rocks and a few stray fallen branches. He noted, the hoof tracks on the dirt were growing wider- the boy had started running. 

_ Toward what? _

He tried to listen more intently for hoof beats. The tabby was starting to feel that prick of anxiety spread through his chest.

Over his shoulder he called to Eloise, “Can you see him?” She would likely spot him first he figured.

The human responded, “No I-” from right behind him he heard an almighty _ thwack _that sent him off his feet automatically. Eloise herself released a scream of fright, and as he swung around mid-air, his breath was stolen from him as an uncountable number of Centaurs began pouring out of the wood like a vast sea of war-born warriors.

From the shadows of the trees they came galloping in hoards. With almighty cries of fierce aggression, men and women brandished greatswords and bows- to his horror, he realised that they had all set their sights on _ them _. Never had he felt the fear of the wrath of a charging stampede of a centaur herd, but now he felt it run through him like ice as the ground shook like they were in the heart of an earthshake. 

They had crossed the distance between them so quickly, that he’d only just yelled at the human to look out, when an arrow shot past his head- missing him by mere inches. 

Like thunder over the land, they were swarmed by the masses. Eloise had tucked herself against a tree trunk, shutting her eyes tight as she cried out in terror.

With nowhere to run, he narrowly avoided being trampled, and lost sight of the girl amongst a current of flesh, hair and iron. Leaping up, he extended his claws and latched himself to the side of a tree. 

Arthur hadn’t even the time to catch his breath, when he heard Eloise let out a strangled screech in what he instantly knew to be tremendous _ pain. _

The cat cried out. To Aslan, to Eloise- to the Centaurs.

***

She had heard it before she felt it. The arrow whistled through the air as it pierced toward them like lightning. She was convinced it would miss her, and the girl was quite sure it would have had she not lurched forward to try and reach for Arthur upon seeing the approaching danger. 

She’d only just stretched out her arms to try and catch the cat, when she felt a sudden opposing force knock her off her feet. It was as if she had smacked into a moving surface- her body spun backward. She lost control of her legs, and it was _ only _after she’d hit the ground that she realised it hadn’t missed its mark at all. 

The pain didn’t hit her until she pulled herself up against the tree beside her. The blood drained from her face in a rush, as her blue gaze zeroed in on the red liquid that poured out of her in waves. She glimpsed the feathers- the shaft sticking out of the side of her thigh- but the shaking ground and thundering footsteps stole her attention immediately after she’d made the connection. 

There was little she could do but scream in terror and pain at the on-coming stampede, and push through the pain in order to make herself as small as possible. She tucked herself so tightly against the bark of the tree trunk that she could taste the dirt and breathed in the cobwebs of the old tree she had lodged herself against. 

Racing shadows colored her closed eyes, the wind and dust against her open flesh hurt like someone was pouring acid into it. She faintly heard Arthur screaming her name, begging the Centaurs not to hurt her. 

Spreading both palms around her injured thigh, the human feebly tried to hold onto the wound, but felt it draining her of any energy she had left. The tree trunk shook as the centaurs galloped past her- circling the area.

She didn’t see it, but felt it as if she were a part of the tree itself- a centaur swung his greatsword low, aiming for _ her, _but instead marked the trunk right above her as his height challenged his aim. Dust, sticks and small pieces of bark cascaded down gently against the breeze, littering her hair and arms with a thin coat of the forest. 

For a moment, she lost her sense of time. Everything seemed to happen so slowly and yet all at once- but after a moment she registered the numerous loud voices. Angry voices. 

She dared to look up, and her gaze landed upon the quivering form of Lightning Bolt- standing above her. He looked in the faces of all his kin, and though he seemed afraid, he fought through it to demand in a strong voice, “Leave her!”

Her head felt heavy. Her eyes rolled back, and as the sounds of commotion faded, she embraced the darkness with the barest fear of what she would see when she next awoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the long wait- life has been rather hectic for me with the nearing end of this uni trimester. Lots of due dates, assignments and work etc. You probably already know the drill. Thank you to all my readers who have been patient whilst waiting for this update! I ask that you be patient once again as I'm still in the final two weeks of work, and I don't expect to update this story until mid-December. I will be taking a long holiday so I'll have lots of time to write between stuffing my face with Christmas cake and family get-togethers. XD
> 
> I'll see you all at Christmas time! :D

**Author's Note:**

> The Chronicles of Narnia belong to CS Lewis. This a work of fiction made out of a deep love for his books and the movies. None of the original story is mine, but my ideas, characters and plots are of my own creation.


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